Message-ID: <6cd3114c.358ac531@aol.com>
Date: Fri, 19 Jun 1998 16:08:15 EDT
From: Maryilee@aol.com
Subject: "And Then There Were Two" Part 6

Chapter 6


"Gary? What's going on?"

Gary shook his head in bewilderment, rubbing the back of his neck.  His
gaze was still fixed on the door by which Chuck had exited.
"I...I...don't know, Marissa." Gary didn't know how to explain the
eerie sensation he had had when Chuck had asked about the paper.  He
had felt like he had been talking to a stranger. Gary had noticed Chuck
acting differently than normal last night, but had shrugged it off to
fatigue.  Gary absently folded his newspaper, tucking it into his back
pocket.  What if Chuck was losing it? Gary had always thought that he
himself would be the first one driven nuts by the paper.  It had never
occurred to him that Chuck would crack under the pressure.

He hesitantly opened the door to the bar area, intending to straighten
things out with Chuck.  He abruptly stopped with the door only part way
open, when he caught sight of Chuck pacing and talking to himself.
Chuck's voice was too quiet for Gary to catch what he was saying, but
from the way he was angrily gesturing towards the door that Gary was
now hiding behind, he surmised that Chuck was talking about him...but
to who?  Gary quietly closed the door.  He needed to think.  Gary
turned back towards the kitchen, slowly sinking onto a stool.

Marissa had poured herself a cup of coffee, and was seated at the
counter, a troubled expression on her face.  "Did you and Chuck argue?"

"No. Yeah. Well...not really."  Gary struggled to understand just
exactly what had happened, he sighed in frustration. "We didn't argue
at all.  Chuck was just acting very...strange."

Baffled, Marissa wrinkled her brow, "How do you mean?  What did he do?"

Gary half-turned, checking the door to the bar, worried that Chuck
would walk in and find them discussing him. "Marissa," he said in a low
voice, "He asked about the date, and why my paper had tomorrow's date
on it."  Gary paused, "It was like he had no clue about tomorrow's
paper."

Marissa rested elbows on the table, her chin propped on her hands,
"That doesn't make sense, Gary."

"I know it doesn't make sense!" Gary barked, his voice louder than he
had intended. "Sorry, Marissa, I didn't mean to snap at you." Gary said
contritely.

Marissa gave Gary a forgiving smile, "I know, don't worry about it."

Gary glanced at his watch, it was already ten o'clock.  If he was going
to track down the correct Antonio Herrara in time, he had better get
going. He had been planning on asking Chuck to help him, but now he
wasn't so sure. Uncertainly, he approached the door to the other room,
then hesitated.  Maybe it would be better to go alone.  He gave Marissa
a quick look, "Hey Marissa, I...uh...I have to go.  Could you,
ah...could you sort of keep an eye on Chuck today?"

At Marissa's wide smile, Gary realized his blunder, and grinned
sheepishly, "Well, you know what I mean."

Chuckling, Marissa answered, "Yes, Gary.  I'll watch him like a hawk."
She grew serious, "Don't worry Gary, I'm sure it's nothing.  Probably
just Chuck's idea of a joke."

Gary glanced at the door, and then quickly back to Marissa, "Yeah,
well, I hope so."  He grabbed his coat, and quickly exited through the
back doors.




"You know what this means, Al?"  Sam asked in wonder.  "It means that
I'm not the only one.  God, Time, Fate or whatever is giving Gary the
paper the same way as he is leaping me through time; for the same
purpose."

"Whoa, Sam!" Al said, putting his hand up.  "I think you're getting
ahead of yourself.  You don't know for sure what that he gets the paper
a day early.  I mean, how would that happen?  You had to build the
Accelerator to get started.  How did Gary get started?"  Al punched
some buttons on his handlink, "See, look, Hobson used to be a
stockbroker.  Hardly what I would call a scientific mind." Al finished
sarcastically.

Sam shot him a dirty look, but acknowledged that Al was probably
right.  He needed more proof.  Wearily he nodded, "You're right."
Suddenly, he thought of something, "Al, check to see if your data has
changed regarding Gary getting shot."   Sam hovered impatiently over Al
as he entered the request into the handlink.

Sorrowfully, Al shook his head when the answer flashed on his screen.
"Sorry Sam, he still gets murdered."

How can that be?  Sam thought, rubbing his forehead, a dull throb
beginning.  He was sure about the paper, whether Al believed him or
not, but if Gary had the next day's paper, then he should be able to
avoid getting murdered.

"Al, what's the date of the paper that runs the article about Gary
getting murdered?"

Al shrugged, but punched the buttons, "Ah, November tenth.  That's next
Monday."

Sam flinched at the news, he had been afraid of that.  Gary had
been...will be...murdered too late in the evening for it to make the
next day's paper.